


Simply the Name

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Historical, M/M, Royalty, Smut, Soulmates, soul marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Minseok stared at the mark on his forearm, at the curl of the Chinese characters that had marred his skin for the last year. He ran the tips of his fingers over the writing, a light caress while he became lost in thought. His soulmate was clear, but their future was not. Practicality and decorum cared little for the marks on a person’s skin. A xiuhan soulmate AU.





	Simply the Name

**Author's Note:**

> I imagined this happening during the early Qing dynasty, though it is not 100% (or probably even 60%) historically accurate disregarding the soulmate element, forgive me. For tlist because you voted and gave me the kick to write again, thank you!
> 
> Title based on the quote:
> 
> “Love is simply the name for the desire and pursuit of the whole.”   
> -Plato, The Symposium

Minseok stared at the mark on his forearm, at the curl of the Chinese characters that had marred his skin for the last year. He ran the tips of his fingers over the writing, a light caress while he became lost in thought. 

He knew the characters as well as, no,  _ better _ than he knew those who made up his own name. He could trace the writing by memory, and he often did when he was alone. It was a comforting habit of sorts, to lie in his small room at night and press the pads of his fingers into his forearm, to the place where his soulmate’s name marked him for life. To a place that had to remain hidden from sight to all those around him for just as long. 

“Xiumin!” a voice bellowed from outside the small pagoda. Minseok quickly pulled his sleeve down, covering his forearm. His heart thumped in panic at the realization he had almost been discovered. The mark had almost been exposed. 

“Coming,” he yelled back, scurrying into the courtyard, trying to swallow down his anxiety. 

  
  
  


He had entered the palace when he was nine. He was the fourth son, his elder brothers had taken what meager resources his impoverished noble bloodline could afford to give, leaving him with only one feasible opportunity given his age. Entry to the palace was something that could bolster up his family, could potentially have economic rewards as well. While his older brothers bought military commissions and tried their hand at fattening their pockets and bolstering their reputation, he was sent into the dragon’s den with a far loftier goal. 

“The crown prince is your age,” his mother had informed him. It wasn’t a secret that they hoped he would work his way into the prince’s inner circle, befriending him and raising up his family in the process. His family’s lineage was of the sort that it wouldn’t be unthinkable that he could call a future Emperor a friend, assuming he played his cards right. 

And he did, even though he had far less selfish motivations when he chased after a ball, retrieving it and running it back to a boy who he had assumed was younger than himself. 

He held it out, smiling briefly while the boy gave him a most curious look. 

“Who are you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He had wide eyes, a pert nose. Something about him seemed mischievous, Minseok thought. 

Minseok blinked, the ball still held in his outstretched hand. “I’m Xiumin.” 

It wasn’t his name, not the one his parents gave him, but it was what he was to be known as in the palace. A divorce of identities, of sorts, a new start. A more formal, more logical name for a boy whose family put potentially farfetched hopes and dreams on his young shoulders. “Who are you?” he asked in return, not remembering ever seeing the boy in this part of the palace. 

“Who do  _ you  _ think I am?” the boy asked, reaching out and grabbing the ball. 

Minseok shrugged. “How would I know?”

The boy smirked. “Do you want to play?”

Minseok had said yes, not knowing that his destiny had already been set long before he picked up a wayward ball or before he agreed to toss it around an inner palace courtyard with a boy he had just met. 

When Minseok was nine years old he met Lu Han for the first time and they became fast friends. 

  
  


It didn’t take long to find out that the high spirited boy was the crown prince. Minseok had felt a tinge of fear at the revelation, mostly due to his age and the expectations his family had thrust upon him. His hesitation was short-lived, however, when Lu Han made it very clear that the new boy in the palace was the only one he wanted to play with when given the chance, even though there weren’t many chances for play to be had.

A month later Minseok found himself being schooled alongside the young royal, burdened by a never-ending curriculum that made his head hurt (and his hands swell, the switch smacking his knuckles on a frequent basis as he struggled to meet the tutor’s expectations). 

They spent more time with tutors than they did running free, playing. Minseok had more leisure time at the end of the day than Lu Han, but that was something he grew accustomed to. He wasn’t chosen by heaven to rule the land, his burden wasn’t quite as large as Lu Han’s. 

And so they went on like that for years, glued to each other as much as they could be, laughing and playing and learning. Crying and sharing the secrets that children have. 

When they were fifteen it all changed, and Minseok would swear it was for the worse. 

  
  


It was a searing pain that felt not unlike the time Minseok had accidentally passed his hand too close to one of the royal tutor’s candles. It was so intense it woke him from a deep slumber, causing him to cry out and grasp at the patch of skin that felt like it was on fire. 

He struggled out of bed and moved towards the nearest lantern that still burned low in the night. When he peered at his skin he gasped at the characters that had appeared, his skin red and irritated around the black lettering. 

_ Lu Han.  _

Minseok stared at the writing for many minutes, trying to comprehend how it had come to pass. 

It was a law of this world that a person’s soulmate would reveal themselves with a permanent mark on the skin, usually appearing around the time of puberty. It was a form of divine guidance, a gift to allow people to understand who their soul yearned for, who it would find true contentment with. 

But Minseok had never expected his soul mark to match the name of the crown prince, his closest friend. He felt a mixture of horror, of fear, of sadness, when he stared down at the mark that had claimed his forearm. 

Lu Han was his soulmate, but Lu Han would never be his, no matter what mark showed up on the prince’s skin. Soul marks meant little when royalty was involved. 

  
  


Minseok couldn’t keep the secret forever, and eventually, the head tutor discovered the mark. Thankfully Lu Han had no knowledge of it, nor would he. The tutor informed the court of the Empress and after that Minseok was warned about ever displaying the mark.

“The mark will be removed if you act foolishly, Xiumin.” The thought of having it cut from his body was warning enough. 

He had kept it covered ever since. And now, at the age of sixteen, sitting in a small pagoda in an out-of-the-way palace garden, he traced it with a heavy heart. The mark that was as much of him as his own name. The mark that told him where the other half of his soul resided, to whom it belonged. With whom it would never be joined. 

“Xiumin!”

He scurried towards the voice, hiding the mark from sight. As he stumbled down the pagoda stairs he caught sight of one of Lu Han’s servants. 

“His Highness is looking for you,” he explained, waving him to follow. 

  
  


Lu Han was in good spirits, he had been ever since the celebration for his sixteenth birthday was announced. While his tutors were just as strict and his workload had only grown heavier, the promise of a few days of rest and fun did wonders for his mood.

When Minseok entered the crown prince’s study he smiled at the sight of Lu Han reclining back on cushions, looking uncharacteristically carefree. He had a scroll in hand, lazily he held it in a lopsided manner. The moment he noticed Minseok he sat up straight, flashy a wide smile. 

“Xiumin, come, sit.” He patted the cushions next to him. In the years since they had first met, they had both grown into handsome young men, albeit Minseok would swear Lu Han was blessed far more than him. He was delicate but strong, with well-defined features that Minseok couldn’t help but stare at when he thought the other wasn’t looking. 

Minseok took a seat next to the prince, rearranging his blue robes as he sat. “What is that?” he asked, gesturing to the scroll. 

They dropped formalities when they were alone with each other, it was something Lu Han had always insisted on. 

“This, my friend, is a list of guests.” Lu Han shoved the scroll towards Minseok. “I managed to steal it from my mother’s quarters.”

Minseok clucked his tongue in admonishment. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Did you know the fifth duke will be attending?” Lu Han ignored the reproving words. “He promised me a horse the last time I saw him.”

“I don’t think you need a horse,” Minseok pointed out. “You already have enough of them.”

“But he has better horses,” Lu Han protested. He set the scroll aside, tossing it onto the floor. “Where were you?”

“Taking a walk,” Minseok answered, unconsciously pulling his sleeve down further even though his entire arm was well covered. 

“Boring. You should be spending time with me.” Lu Han was quick to put his arm around Minseok’s shoulders, pulling him into a half hug. 

Moments like this, Minseok often thought, made him feel physical pain. Lu Han had always been overly affectionate in private, quick to touch his friend, to hug him and hold hands. And none of that mattered terribly much before the soul mark colored their every interaction. Now it made a Minseok’s chest tighten, creating a lingering sadness that this friendship was as much as would ever pass between them no matter what the heavens claimed was their connection. 

Lu Han held him to his side, hugging him as he rested their heads together. “I don’t like when I don’t see you for too long, it makes me feel uneasy.”

And it was words like this that made Minseok’s heart feel like it was tearing in two, breaking without good enough reason. 

“I can’t be with you every moment of the day,” he whispered. 

“Why not?” Lu Han whispered back, his breath tickling Minseok’s cheek.  When Minseok didn’t answer he gave up the question, content to rest his head against that of his best friend. 

Moments of silence passed between them before the prince spoke again. “The court astrologers think I shall get my soul mark soon,” he said quietly. 

Minseok swallowed, not daring to speak.

“Though it won’t matter.” Lu Han sighed. “Unless of course, it is one of the women on my mother’s list of potential brides, it won’t matter at all.”

A crown prince couldn’t marry their soulmate, a crown prince wasn’t supposed to marry for some arcane reason. They had to think of the empire, of the people. A soulmate wasn’t to be entertained unless they came from the right family, unless they could have the right children. 

Minseok moved away, sitting back, hoping he didn’t look bothered. 

“I’ll get my soul mark before you,” Lu Han said, words coming out teasing. “Another time I beat you.”

Minseok narrowed his eyes, pushing the sadness and despair from his mind as best he could. “You do realize I have better marks than you in five of eight subjects.”

“I have a bigger dick,” Lu Han retorted, face flushing as he teased. 

“And?” Minseok challenged. “You don’t know how to use it so I fail to see how that is something to brag about.”

“Like you’re not a virgin!” Lu Han yelled back. He launched into a round of playful arguments not fit for anyone outside of the room. A crown prince was not to be seen being so vulgar, not by the majority of those around him. Only in front of Minseok did he behave like this, teasing and playing around, until the two of them fell back in a fit of laughter. 

And somehow that hurt more. 

  
  


Minseok had readied himself to be sent away. He doubted the Empress would allow him to stay in the palace once Lu Han knew the truth. He imagined many times the disappointed and hurt looks in his parent’s eyes when they found out their potentially elevated positions were no more, that Minseok was no longer a friend of the future emperor. 

He had prepared for it as best as he could in the days leading up to Lu Han’s birthday celebration, so much so that he had already begun to pack the small trinkets he wanted to keep. The things Lu Han had given him through the years, content to hang onto the small memories of a life he had to leave behind.  _ Of a person he had to leave behind. _

The day of Lu Han’s birthday Minseok was summoned by a palace servant, one that belonged to the Empress’s household. He walked behind the servant with his shoulders squared, mentally prepared to be sent away. 

When he entered the Empress’s receiving room he was shocked at what he found. 

Lu Han was there, taking tea with his mother. The sleeve of his robe was rolled up, an uncouth site for someone of his rank. On the pale skin was a black mark in the same spot as Minseok’s but on the opposite arm, one that made Minseok freeze in the doorway after giving his customary bows of deference.

“Xiumin!” Lu Han said excitedly. “See, the name is Minseok. Isn’t that a peculiar name?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Surely no one I shall ever meet.”

Minseok dared to look at the Empress, to see the staid look on her face. Something passed between the young noble and the most powerful woman in the Empire in that split second. A truce of sorts. As though she was telling Minseok “ _ he doesn’t know it is you and you shall never let him find o _ u _ t _ ”. And Minseok nodded subtly to give his agreement. 

Being quiet was better than being sent away. At least he would still be allowed to see Lu Han. At least he could still be near. 

When Minseok was sixteen he made an unspoken deal that he would find was impossible to survive under.

  
  


Minseok watched the procession with a heavy heart. The flutter of silks of every color, purchased by hopeful parents who spent a small fortune on their daughter’s appearance for that one specific date. Minseok stood five steps behind the Empress, five steps behind Lu Han, as the young women were paraded in front of the palace.

Their hair was adorned with jeweled pins that flickered in the sunlight. Their faces were powdered, lips stained red, cheeks flushed with vermillion. Lithe waists, small statures, chosen for their beauty, poise, and grace. They stood in front of the Empress’s appraising stare as bravely as they could, waiting to hear about their future. 

Minseok’s chest tightened as he watched Lu Han discuss the options with his mother. Ultimately it would be her decision, but she wanted his input. He was honest, speaking of the girl’s looks, which ones he preferred over others. 

These girls had soul marks. They had the name of their soulmate marked onto their body for the rest of their lives, but like Lu Han, like Minseok, it mattered little. Not when the world continued to revolve around status and lineage, opportunity and luck.

When the signal was given to leave Minseok didn’t dare to look at his best friend. He fell into step with the rest of the party, back towards the inner palace. He didn’t ask Lu Han who was selected even when they were alone later that night. 

It was Lu Han who offered the information without being prompted. “She is the daughter of Prince Wen of the First Rank,” Lu Han explained, voice devoid of emotion. He poured more of the sweet liquor they were sharing into Minseok’s cup. “She is the best choice.”

Minseok stared at the small cup before taking it and drinking it down in one gulp.

“When will you take a wife?” Lu Han asked, voice unusually quiet, faltering. 

“I am not sure,” Minseok answered, gesturing for his cup to be refilled. 

  
  


He made the request a month before Lu Han’s wedding. It was done in secret, filtered through the royal tutor who Minseok had the most affinity for. Lu Han’s father would have to approve it and if it was granted he would be gone from the palace for an indefinite period of time, possibly forever. 

Lu Han was not to know of it, never to know of it until he was gone. Minseok had tried to be strong as the days turned into weeks, as the wedding date approached, but he had found that his heart, his pain, became too heavy to bear. 

“It is approved,” the tutor informed him early one morning. 

He slipped out of the palace later that evening, under the cover of darkness. He was now an investigating censor, tasked with hearing the complaints of the people far and wide, sniffing out corruption and reporting back to the Emperor. He had no doubt that the Empress had a big part in his landing the position. She would know it was better for him to be away, no doubt, as the prince’s wedding approached. 

He would be paid well, his parents could still be proud of him. He didn’t fail his family in that regard, but that knowledge was small comfort when he felt like his entire being was being ripped in two the further he traveled from the palace. 

_ The further he was from Lu Han.  _

When Minseok was seventeen he made a choice, one that he hoped would take some of the pain away. 

  
  
  


“You need to sleep, sir.”

Minseok looked away from his sleeved arm. He had been rubbing _ that _ spot, lost in thought. “Huh?” He blinked at his servant, trying to figure out what exactly he had said. 

“Sleep,” Yixing repeated, rolling his eyes. 

“Ah, I’m fine.” Minseok waved away the suggestion. 

The night air was cold, the last throws of winter clung to the land despite the shift in seasons. The fire gave off just enough warmth to keep the chill mostly at bay, Minseok’s thick robes doing the rest. Still, he shivered.

“I heard things in the village,” Yixing said, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. They had been traveling through the western province for months now. It had been weeks since they had last encountered a sizable city. In another two weeks they would reach another, but for now, they were greeted with scattered villages, the residents eying up the royal censor with a mixture of suspicion and blind respect. 

“What things?” Minseok asked quietly. 

“They say the crown prince is now a father,” Yixing reported. “With another on the way from his second consort.”

Minseok stared into the fire, digesting the news.  _ Lu Han was a father now _ . He found some happiness in the thought, but also an intense wave of longing. He missed him. Oh, how he missed him. 

“It was a shopkeep who was gossiping about it, though I do wonder how they would know.” Yixing clucked his tongue. “Amazing how quickly gossip spreads, even so far from the capital.”

Minseok pursed his lips. “I think I shall sleep now,” he said.

“Very good, sir.”

When Minseok was twenty he was as far away from Lu Han as he had ever been, though news still reached him no matter the distance.

  
  
  


He was stricken by a fever in a southern province. Yixing was with him, his ever-loyal friend and servant, nursing him as he took refuge in the home of a kind villager. Minseok remembered little from the episode other than the pains, the chills, and the disorienting and delirious feelings that clung to him as he wavered in and out of consciousness. 

It was days before the fever broke, before Minseok found his mind returned to the present. One morning he sat up in bed, his thin linen bedclothes stuck to his body with sweat. The rising sun heated his face, streaming through the small window of the tiny hut. He wiped his hair away from his face and swallowed, his throat raw and painful. 

He caught sight of the mark on his arm, clearly displayed through the sweat-drenched linen. He found himself staring at it, tears welling up in his eyes. 

He cried softly as he held his arm with his hand, pressing hard into his flesh as his body was racked with sobs. He didn’t know if he was crying for himself, for his misfortune, for his illness, or for some unknown reason he couldn’t understand. 

Yixing found him like that a few minutes later. 

“Sir!” He rushed to his bedside, a basin of water in hand. 

The servant’s eyes lowered until he stared at the spot that Minseok held tightly. Of course, he had seen it as he nursed the royal censor during his illness. 

“I have one of my own, you know.” Yixing dipped a rag into the basin, ringing it out as he continued to speak. “I loved him with all my heart but he passed on shortly after we met.”

Minseok wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, uncovering the mark. 

“He drowned, a horrible accident,” Yixing explained softly. “But I was lucky to have met him, to have spent time with him. To have known him.”

Minseok didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to say any of the things he was feeling or thinking. Didn’t know how to communicate how much he missed Lu Han or how terribly unfair he sometimes found his life. 

“It is said soul mates are one of the same, will always be through many lives, sir. If in this one you aren’t to be together that doesn’t mean in the next you shall be apart. You will have infinite chances, it is what the heavens dictate.” Yixing raised the rag to Minseok’s face and washed away the sweat and tears. 

Minseok wanted to believe it, wanted his heart to feel less burdened at the explanation, but his mind couldn’t compromise so easily. 

“And you don’t know, sir, what the rest of this life may have in store for you.”

When Minseok was twenty-three he tried to find hope, but he failed, no matter how much his loyal servant tried. 

  
  
  


Minseok passed the brush over the paper, the smooth lines explaining the latest findings he had encountered in the city. It had been months of meeting, of investigating, before he learned the truth of the corruption that ran deep in the area. He would report it back to the emperor, carrying the message to the nearest courier he could trust to relay the information back to the palace. 

The candle next to him dripped wax onto the table, the stick half gone as Minseok recorded as much detail as he could. It was sweltering outside, the heat of summer a thick blanket that could not be shaken off, invading the small room that Minseok had been renting for the last many months. He felt the sweat drip down his shoulder blades, traveling down his back, but he ignored it, needing to complete his work. 

He heard voices outside the inn where he was staying, not unusual in a general sense, but attention-grabbing due to the tone. Minseok set the brush aside and listened. Life as royal censor had given him this instinct, to know when to observe, to take note of things that may be important. 

More voices, raised voices but not those of an altercation. No, it was a sense of excitement almost, of word passing among many. 

Minseok stood and walked towards the door. He was surprised when Yixing came rushing in, nearly running into him. 

“The Emperor has passed,” Yixing blurted out. “Three days ago.”

Minseok stared into his servant’s eyes, noting the look of shock.  _ Lu Han was now Emperor.  _

When Minseok was twenty-five his world shifted, but the consequences were not yet known. 

  
  


The scroll was delivered a little over a year after Lu Han was enthroned. It bore the Imperial seal. It was the first message that Minseok had received since the last Emperor had passed on. He had sent reports back periodically during this time, waiting and wondering what might happen. Perhaps hoping, in some small way, Lu Han would respond. 

It was a summons for Royal Censor Xiumin to return to the palace, to report directly to the emperor. It would be the first time he had returned since he had left eight years prior. Many things had changed in that time, but Minseok knew very well many things had stayed the same. 

He set the message aside and unconsciously pulled up his sleeve, smoothing his fingers over the mark that he had born for eleven years. The black characters that had carried with him through separation, through sadness, through long nights and long days. 

When Minseok was twenty-six he prepared to return. 

  
  


The palace was an eternal symbol, a place that was forever suspended among passing time, untouched except for those who passed through it. It was autumn when Minseok returned to the place he had spent his childhood, and he could agree it had changed little. Only the faces were different, but the atmosphere was the same. The sprawling courtyards, the stone walls, the tiled roofs and adorned columns, were the same as those that had been etched in his memory from a young age. The greens, the blues, the swirl of the palace servant’s skirts, the rushed movements of the eunuchs traversing the squares. 

It was not the place that had changed, but himself. His face was no longer as smooth nor youthful. His movements were a little stiffer, he had a few new scars from his time on the road. Mentally he was stronger, he wanted to think, than he was so many years before when he left in the dead of night. 

But with each fall of his boots on the white stones leading towards the Emperor’s hall, his mind betrayed him.  _ Lu Han _ . He would be on the throne now, regal in his demeanor. In the years they had been apart he would have faced challenges, things Minseok couldn’t even begin to imagine. 

And perhaps it was poetic nonsense, the way Minseok likened his feelings to his soul calling out. To something deeper inside of himself than mere feelings, deeper than his thoughts, the images his mind conjured, buried in himself so deeply it was uncontrollable, unreachable. The way each footfall made him want to break into a run, to go faster, to get closer as quickly as he could. 

He maintained self-control, struggled against his urges as he climbed the steps and waited to be introduced into the receiving hall. 

His heart thundered in his chest as he took the first steps inside, head bowed in deference. And it was as if he could sense Lu Han with every fiber of his being, knew how close he was, knew how much he had missed this. 

When he raised his head he was staring into the eyes he had dreamed about a thousand times over, countless nights sleeping in roadside inns or under the stars. Times he fell asleep while writing reports, or nodded off while leaning against the trunks of ancient trees during a few minutes spent letting the horses graze. 

Those eyes that held his own so firmly, that said more in that stare than Minseok had spoken in the years since they had been apart. 

“Xiumin.” He said his name so quietly, so painfully, that Minseok had to look away. 

Lu Han dismissed the servants a minute later, waiting until they had all shuffled from the place before he said another word. 

Minseok stared at the floor, unable to look the emperor in the eyes. 

“I didn’t know where you had gone to. I searched and searched…” Lu Han trailed off. Minseok dared to look up, meeting his eyes, seeing pain reflected in them. “I didn’t know until I received your report. A royal censor…”

Words seemed fruitless in the face of what Minseok was feeling. He nodded, biting his bottom lip. 

“Come to my chambers tonight. I shall send a servant to fetch you.” Lu Han’s voice was full of authority, had an edge to it that Minseok didn’t remember. 

“Yes, your majesty.” Minseok wasn’t going to deny him, he couldn’t. Lu Han was the emperor now. 

“I will see you then.” It was a dismissal, one that had Minseok bowing as he stepped back. 

Things had changed between them in some ways, Minseok knew as he turned and walked from the room, but so much had remained the same.

  
  
  


Minseok had never set foot in the Emperor’s private quarters in his life, he had no reason to before Lu Han had summoned him there. He had followed a servant from the outer court of the palace, the only place he could wait for the imperial summons given palace decorum. 

The winding, dark passages of the palace seemed endless as he followed the servant. He was silent, hands clasped together as he walked. When he was lead into the inner quarters he hesitated for a moment, swallowing, tongue thick in his mouth. 

His arrival was announced, the servants leaving immediately after. Minseok padded into the spacious private quarters of the Emperor, not sure what to expect. 

He found Lu Han in casual robes, tied loosely at his waist. His hair was loose on his shoulders, his mouth was drawn in a tight line. He observed Minseok for a second before he beckoned him closer. 

Minseok’s body felt heavy as he took one step, then two, towards the man his heart had longed for over so many years. 

Candles burnt low in the room, flickering shadows dancing along the wide expanse of the chambers. Minseok stopped when he was a few arms lengths from the Emperor. He kept his hands clasped, muscles tight, body racked with anxiety. 

Lu Han cleared his throat. “You’ve been well?”

Minseok nodded. “And you?”

Lu Han sighed, looking away. “I didn’t know why you left, not for years. Not until…”

Minseok stared at him, fighting the urge to touch the mark that lay hidden under his sleeve. 

Lu Han looked back, locking eyes. “Xiumin is not your real name, is it?”

Minseok faltered. He watched with wide eyes as Lu Han pushed the sleeve of his robe up, revealing the soul mark that was emblazoned on his skin. “ _ Minseok,” _ he said softly, never looking away. 

When Minseok didn’t answer Lu Han bridged the gap, a few wide steps forward before he grabbed Minseok’s arm in his hands and forcefully pushed up his sleeve, revealing the soul mark. 

Minseok let out a small cry of anguish at the revelation, struggling to pull his arm back. Lu Han’s eyes were glued to that spot, to his name emblazoned on Minseok’s arm. He gripped Minseok’s arm tightly, fingers boring into his flesh. 

“Please,” Minseok begged, pulling his arm back. 

Lu Han let his arm go, his hand falling to his side. He remained unmoving, eyes still focused on the mark that had remained hidden for so long. Minseok’s flesh bore the truth of it, the truth of their soul’s connection.

Minseok blinked away tears, taking a step back. He couldn’t react fast enough when Lu Han moved forward, his hands going to Minseok, pulling him closer. He couldn’t understand what was happening in the split second before his lips were pressed into Lu Han’s, his body suddenly flush against that of the emperor’s. 

Minseok made a noise of surprise, of pure shock, before he understood, before he could react. Lu Han’s soft lips were pressed on his own chapped ones, insistent. Minseok parted his lips without thought, a fire burning inside of him at the sudden contact with the man he had longed for all the passing years. 

His tongue moved, darting into Lu Han’s mouth as the Emperor reacted in kind, lips moving over Minseok’s as their tongues met for the first time. 

Minseok couldn’t liken the experience to anything he had ever known, despite how relatively chaste it was. He felt dizzy, felt intoxicated, unbearably light as his hands found Lu Han’s waist. 

He was lost to it all as they kissed, as their teeth clashed. Lu Han cupped the back of Minseok’s head, fingers threading through his hair as he deepened the kiss.

When they broke away for breath they were both panting, faces flushed. Lu Han pressed his forehead against Minseok’s, an act that brought up so many memories. Of careless nights, of days, of soft hugs and touches, of friendly gestures that meant so much more when everything was considered. 

“If I had known, god if I had known,” he said breathlessly before pulling Minseok in for another kiss. They tasted each other, exploring as they were mutually lost to something that their very beings had cried for, would cry for, for time immemorial. 

Their hands gently explored each other, running over the silk of their robes while they were lost in their kiss. 

Minseok keened as they broke away, as his hand came to rest in Lu Han’s. 

“I want you,” the emperor husked, squeezing Minseok’s hand in his own. 

Minseok couldn’t deny him, would never deny him, not when he wanted him just as much. He let Lu Han lead him to his bed, their lips meeting in gentle, brief kisses as they moved. 

He relaxed as Lu Han guided him, hands going to his robes. He responded in turn, searching for the ties of Lu Han’s garment, pushing the fabric away as they fell into the sumptuous bedding. 

They were both needy, wanting. Minseok reached for Lu Han, hands going to his neck to pull him in. Their lips met, Minseok sucking Lu Han’s bottom lip, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as their bodies molded into each other. 

Minseok raked his nails lightly against Lu Han’s skin, lower, hands moving over his back. He let his head fall back, Lu Han kissing down his jaw, to his neck, sucking and marking him. Teeth grazing skin. 

“I should have known then, how I wanted you.” Lu Han’s words were spoken against heated skin, his teeth grazing flesh as he continued to suck and mark the man beneath him. 

Minseok lost himself to the sensation, to the feeling of Lu Han’s mouth exploring his flesh. He stifled a moan when Lu Han began to lick against his collarbone, rake his teeth against the skin.

“I wanted you so much then, but I didn’t understand,” Lu Han spoke as he traveled lower, lips pressing lightly until he was lathing against Minseok’s nipple. 

Minseok arched his back at the new sensation, shutting his eyes tightly while Lu Han licked and sucked the sensitive. When Lu Han moved lower, sucking along his chest to his abdomen, Minseok’s breath hitched in response, his hands going to Lu Han’s hair, nails raking into the emperor’s scalp. 

His cock was hardening, resting flush against his stomach as he reveled in the sensation of Lu Han’s mouth on his skin, claiming him. When Lu Han’s fingers came to tease along the length, Minseok gasped, breathe hitching. 

In the back of his mind, somewhere among the fog, was the knowledge that the man he was doing this with was not an average person. Was not someone who could easily proclaim his love or decide to live a life of simple devotion. But among it all was the knowledge that he wanted this, that he accepted this, he had always accepted Lu Han no matter what the circumstances were. 

He rolled his hips up, chasing friction. Lu Han responded by pressing his hips into the bed, tongue darting out to lick the underside of Minseok’s cock. He was slow, deliberate, as he licked a strip then moved to press kisses into the plump flesh of Minseok’s thighs. 

Minseok’s hands went to the bedding, fisting the fabric tightly. Lu Han’s hands gripped his hips, smoothed over his thighs, worshipping with his touch as his lips pressed into the flesh. 

When the emperor moved back Minseok whined, watching as he moved off the bed. 

Lu Han moved towards a small table near the bed, grabbing a small bottle before returning. He looked at Minseok with half-lidded eyes. His cheeks were flushed, lips were swollen. Minseok wanted to pull him close, to crash their lips together. 

“May I?” he asked, holding up the bottle. 

Minseok nodded, sucking on his bottom lip as he spread his legs. 

He looked away, closing his eyes. When Lu Han’s finger brushed against his entrance he tensed, the sensation strange. 

“It’s– I haven’t–“

“Shhh,” Lu Han quieted him. He moved gently, circling the rim, earning a low moan from Minseok before pushing the tip of his finger slowly inside. 

Minseok tensed, thighs clenching. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” Lu Han said in a low voice, pushing the finger in slowly. 

It was a strange burn, a pain that Minseok had never experienced before. He willed himself to relax, aided by how slow Lu Han moved. Once Lu Han’s digit was fully pressed inside the emperor pulled it out slowly before pushing it back in. 

Minseok gripped the bed covers, sucking in deep breaths until the pain morphed into a pleasant sensation. 

“Can I add another?” Lu Han asked. 

With Minseok’s agreement, another finger was slipped inside. He rocked them into Minseok, waiting until he added a third and picked up the pace. 

Minseok’s chest began to heave as a pleasant warmth spread through his body. He found himself pressing back on Lu Han’s digits, chasing the feeling. 

When Lu Han removed his fingers entirely Minseok whined, earning a smile from Lu Han. Minseok watched, face flushed, as the emperor coated his hard cock in lubricant. He moved between Minseok’s legs, hands going to Minseok’s thighs to widen them. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, please,” Minseok said in a shaky voice, his body wanting something he had never experienced before, driven by a base need, a desire. 

Lu Han lined his cock up to Minseok’s entrance, teasing the rim with the head of his cock before pressing it inside slowly. 

Minseok cried out at the sensation of being filled. Lu Han immediately stopped, giving him a worried look. 

“Keep, keep going,” Minseok breathed, back arching involuntarily. 

Lu Han hesitated for a moment before he pressed deeper inside. 

Minseok had never felt anything like this, being breached and spread open, filled slowly. He swallowed down a moan and tried to relax as Lu Han buried himself balls deep. 

He slid out slowly before pressing back in, hips rocking as he braced himself on his hands, hovering over Minseok. 

Minseok gripped Lu Han’s arms, nails raking flesh. Lu Han snapped his hips again, earning a cry from the man beneath him. 

Minseok found himself rocking into Lu Han’s thrusts, wanting more as he was stretched open. He felt warm, the muscles in his stomach tightening as he was fucked open. Each push of Lu Han’s cock opened him up wider, stretching him in a way he didn’t know existed. 

Lu Han’s hand found his own, pressing against it. When Minseok spotted their marks, the complimenting marks that had indicated their bond, a new wave of pleasure overtook him. 

_ His soulmate.  _ Lu Han was his as he was Lu Han’s. As time and distance, as circumstance and social order tore them apart, that fact would always remain. 

They locked eyes as they became one, Lu Han driving into Minseok while Minseok met him thrust for thrust. The cavernous bedchamber was filled with the sound of skin on skin, with the small, soft noises of pleasure as two men, their souls forever bound, experienced each other for the first time. 

It was Minseok who began to falter, who felt the clenching of his muscles as his release threatened to come. His free hand went to his cock, pumping in time to Lu Han’s thrusts, their eyes still locked as they took and gave in equal turns. 

He clenched down on Lu Han’s dick as he came, crying out, the white-hot heat overcoming him. Lu Han came only seconds later, pumping his seed into Minseok as he gripped his hand tightly, breathing uneven. 

Lu Han pressed a soft kiss on Minseok’s brow before he slowly pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to him. Their breathing was ragged, both men boneless from their release. 

Minseok fumbled feeling for Lu Han’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Lu Han squeezed his hand gently, chest heaving up and down as he caught his breath. 

Moments of silence passed before either man spoke. 

“Please stay with me,” Lu Han whispered. 

Minseok looked up at the ceiling, mind a haze of pleasure, of deep emotions, of memories of years spent apart. 

“Okay,” he said softly. ”I will.”

When Minseok was twenty-six he made a promise, one he knew wouldn’t be easy. Soul marks weren’t guarantees and life wasn’t accommodating. But still, as he felt his hand rest against Lu Han’s, as he felt the surge of affection, of love, of belonging, he knew he couldn’t say no. No matter how difficult the future might be. 

“Okay,” he repeated, holding Lu Han’s hand tightly. “Okay.”


End file.
